Bishop walked toward Rook. A black leather coat covered his white jacket with its hood over his black hair shrouding his face. He wore blue jeans and black boots. Bishop strode passed Niles, as the old man rose from his chair and walked toward the counter, using his cane to guide him, and tapping on the floor with every step.
Niles scoffed. “Speak of the devil,” he moaned. “Bishop,” he greeted, forcing a pleasant tone and nod as he passed him.
“Oh hey, Niles—it’s a great day outside, see the beautiful clouds and bright sun—oops, I’m sorry sir, I totally forgot!” said Bishop, before covering his mouth.
“Bishop!” Rook shouted, widening his eyes and tilting his head.
“It’s okay, Marques,” said Niles, continuing to walk to the counter. “Are you still upset you can’t beat a blind man at chess?”
“You’re cheating somehow, old man,” Bishop argued. “I’ll figure out how to beat you, one of these days.”
“For that to happen you’d need to possess the ability to use critical thinking and—oops I’m sorry about that. I totally forgot; you don’t have a brain.”
Rook erupted in laughter before Bishop could retort. He patted Bishop on the back and slid into a booth. “I warned you not to mess with him!”
“If he wasn’t blind, I’d—”
“Not be able to land a single attack on him, like the fifty times before?”
“It wasn’t fifty,” Bishop corrected, reluctant to join Rook in the booth. He stared at Niles while the older man tapped around the bar with a victorious grin cracking the corner of his mouth. “It was twenty-two and I’ll tell you this,” he leaned in closer to Rook and whispered. “There’s something wrong with your uncle… there’s no way I can’t touch him without some form of trick or something... he can see, I’m telling you!”
“Just because I can’t see well doesn’t mean I can’t hear you, Bishop,” said Niles. He grabbed the cordless phone and disappeared through the swinging doorway leading to the kitchen.
“See what I mean?” said Bishop.
Rook smiled while shaking his head. Bishop and his uncle shared a love-hate relationship since they first met. They wouldn’t admit it, but they were similar in a lot of ways. Both were eccentric, sarcastic and had lots of knowledge about magic. Rook believed their hatred stemmed for their similarities. When they were around each other it reminded Niles of his past and Bishop of his future.
Bishop slide into the booth across from Rook. “Here, check these out,” said Bishop. He reached into his jacket and revealed a stack of small rectangular black cards. He placed them in front of Rook. “Now, we’re legit,” he added with a grin.
Rook pulled them close and picked one up, reading it out loud.
“Magik: We make magic happen… We’ll take on any job, magical or not… for more information call seven—Bishop!”
“It sounds better than the Magic Duo… Aren’t they sweet?”
“No!”
“What do you mean no? I spent over twenty-five bucks on those and I’ve been handing them out all day!”
“Uncle Niles will kill you when he sees these—you put the address of the café on them!”
“I mean, will he actually see them?”
“Bishop!”
Bishop raised his hands and looked around the café. “I figured this could be our base of operations so to speak, besides, he shouldn’t mind, it’ll drum up business… and heaven knows he needs it instead of leeching off of us for free labor.”
Rook shook his head. “We work for him so we can live here, idiot!” Rook snapped.
“It’s done, Rook. I can’t change them,” Bishop argued, before snatching the stack of cards away from Rook. “You should be happy with this; we can do a few jobs and save some money to track down Isabella.”
“I appreciate you wanting to help me find my sister, but this is wrong,” Rook argued. “And the last job we were on nearly got us both killed, remember the Shipyard, Ian Graves, the werewolves? Or maybe Oscar Meritov and his merry band of vampires we had to fight off for him? Every time you find us work, it usually involves criminals and I don’t want any part of that!”
“But here we are! Alive and well,” said Bishop, dismissing Rook’s argument. “I thought you’d be excited about this, I really did. I see you’ve been spending too much time with your uncle and just want to sit around here all day, doing nothing.”
“That’s exactly what you do! You haven’t left your room for over a week until this morning.”
“Sorry man, once I play BioShock I can’t put it down,” said Bishop.
Rook threw his arms up, relenting as there was no getting through to Bishop. He’d been in this position before. Bishop had a knack for talking anyone into giving him what he wanted. It worked for everyone, including Niles, who Bishop begged for hours to allow him to live in the apartment above the café. Niles finally gave up and allowed him to stay on the condition he became an employee and work for him, but they both had different ideas for what work actually was.
Bishop’s ideal workday included lounging around the café, watching videos on the Internet or playing video games. Any time Niles questioned him about his work ethic or lack thereof, he had clever excuses—what he called reasons—for it. Initially, Niles would think he’s full of it, but the more he talked the more he became convinced of his reasons. Or he grew tired of arguing with him and gave up.
“Fine, but the moment it gets bad, we’re done!”
“I knew you’d come around, Rooky!”
Rook glared at Bishop, tightening his features. “Bishop… never call me that again.”
“Okay,” said Bishop raising his hands and leaning back. “I’m only kidding, relax.”
Rook’s attention went back to the card before his face loosened up. He read the card several times before grabbing the stack back from Bishop and reading them one by one. He threw them aside after reading them. His eyes widened as raised his attention to Bishop.
“Rook? What’s wrong?”
“… You realize you spelled magic wrong? It ends with a c, not a k.”
Bishop grabbed a card from the table, glancing over it before tossing it back in the pile. “No, it’s spelled right,” he said with certainty.
“Yes, you spelled it correctly in the tagline, we make magic happen, but you spelled the company name, Magik. That makes no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense—you need to be thinking on a higher level, Rook.”
Rook scoffed. “… I do?” He placed the cards on the table and folded his arms. “Then tell me, Old Wise One, exactly what is this higher level of thinking I’m missing?”
Rook shook his head while Bishop placed his elbows on the table, interlocking his hands, and cleared his throat preparing to deliver what Rook guessed to be a rational explanation. Knowing Bishop, it would more than likely be irrational bordering outrageous.
“Only someone like me, with a creative and artistic mind can use the same word twice and make it work. You and I, together we are Magik—with a k—and we make magic—with a c—happen. Spelling words differently is a sign of the times, Rook. You need to get out more.”
Rook was silent for several seconds, scratching his head and looked at the lamp above the table. His focus went back to Bishop, who was smiling a nodding, a sign he was confident with his explanation and his ‘creativity’.
He raised an eyebrow. “Bishop, I’ve known you for almost two years and that may be the dumbest thing you have ever said. And you’ve said a lot of dumb things,” said Rook. “But what’s done is done right? Guess we’re stuck with it.” Rook buried his face in his hands, sighing heavily.
The sound of the swinging double-doors to the kitchen opened grabbed their attention. A young man wearing a white apron covering a black t-shirt and jeans holding a cloche covered dish stepped through. His hair was brown and skin was light. He had big blue eyes and smiled from-ear-to-ear as Niles exited the kitch
en behind him and sat in a chair near the door.
“Ah, Felix, there you are, my young apprentice,” said Bishop. “I see you stopped at the facility for the visually impaired and brought him home, how thoughtful.”
Niles scoffed.
“Welcome back! I was looking for you earlier,” said Felix. He walked to the table. “I wanted to show you what I baked and don’t worry, I followed your recipe to the letter.”
Felix removed the cloche from the dish and revealed a pan of brownies, sliding it on the table.
“My favorite!” said Bishop before reaching for a piece. “Did you put the extra treats in them before baking? And you didn’t use magic right?”
Rook snapped at attention. “You didn’t seriously teach him how—”
“Relax, it’s only candy… It was a recipe I found on the Internet,” Bishop interrupted before biting into a brownie. He chewed for a few seconds then swallowed as Felix stood straight, awaiting his approval. “Good… tasty even… not as good as Marron’s, but you’re well on your way, Felix. You’ll move up from a dishwasher in no time.”
“Ah, thanks, Bishop, I appreciate that!”
Rook turned to Niles while Bishop reached for another brownie. “Speaking of Marron, have you heard anything from her lately?”
“Not since her letter a few weeks back,” Niles answered.
“I hope everything is okay with her mother,” said Rook. “It’s unlike her to not call and I miss her being around here.”
Niles nodded. “I’m sure she’s fine. Her mother was doing better from her last letter, so it’s nothing to worry about.”
Rook folded his arms and rested his chin on his hand. “You may be right, I’m sure we’ll get another letter from her sooner than later.”
“Hopefully, it hasn’t been the same without her,” said Felix.
“Don’t they have phones in Kansas? Why doesn’t she call like a normal human being?” said Bishop.
“You know her mother is superstitious,” Rook argued.
Bishop sighed. “Whatever.”
The cordless phone sitting on the counter rang, grabbing Niles’ attention. He felt the counter with his hand searching for it until he found it and raised it to his ear. “Hello? Hello Jasper, I hope all things are well,” Niles nodded as he listened. “Good, take care, talk to you tomorrow.”
Bishop sighed through his nose while chewing his brownie. “What is it with you and Jasper? Who is he anyway? Since the day I met you, every day, without fail, Jasper calls and you say the same thing: I hope all things are well. What’s with that?”
“Frankly, it’s none of your business, Bishop,” answered Niles.
“It is if I have to hear it every day, you—”
Rook lowered his head and faced the table. Niles and Bishop ended up arguing if they spent longer than two minutes in a room together. Today, Rook shut his eyes and tried to tune them out, but it proved to be unsuccessful.
2
Opportunity
The bell hanging above the café door rang, alarming the group. Bishop and Niles stopped trading insults when a young woman stepped inside. Long and wavy blonde hair fell over her gray jacket and she wore black pants and heels. Her blue eyes scanned the room until settling on Niles behind the counter as he leaned on his cane moving his head in her direction.
“Hello, I saw the sign outside on the door. You’re looking for a part-time waitress?”
“Ah yes, come right in, young lady. My name is Niles Lockhart, welcome to the Blue Moon Café,” he greeted with a soft smile.
She walked over to the counter reaching over to shake Niles’ hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mister Lockhart, my name is Harmony Hill.”
“Harmony Hill... you have a beautiful name,” Niles commented. The phone rang, interrupting their meeting. “Excuse me, Misses Hill. Rook, would you mind helping her?”
“It’s okay,” she smiled.
Niles turned to answer the phone. Rook rose and walked toward her. He extended his hand, and she returned the pleasantry.
“Rook? That’s an interesting name,” she laughed.
“Likewise,” Rook replied with an awkward smile. “Harmony is a better name than Rook, I will admit. My name is Marques, Rook is just a nickname.”
“Thank you, Marques,” she said, letting go. They stared at each other for a moment then looked away. “So… about the opening?”
“Oh yeah,” he replied rubbing the back of his neck. “Our friend Marron left us a while back—to be honest, you’re the first person to apply for the position. We thought no one wanted the job.”
Harmony admired the café, her gaze falling upon the empty booths and tables, then Bishop and Felix as they stared at her. She turned back to Rook and cleared her throat. “Yeah, it doesn’t seem too busy in here. Are you sure you need a waitress?” she joked.
Bishop nudged Felix and leaned closer to him.
“Look how beautiful she is—I’m proud of Rook, leaping up to greet her like that. I wonder if she’s single. She reminds me of Marron—young, beautiful, charming. What do you think Felix, a girl like that, think I got a chance?” Bishop commented.
“No, you don’t,” Harmony snapped. She said it loud enough that Niles put his hand over the phone and leaned in closer to listen. She held her hand out so everyone could see it. “As you can see, I’m engaged. For you to speak like that about me as if I can’t hear you—let’s just say even if I wasn’t spoken for you still wouldn’t have a chance.”
Rook’s eyebrows raised as Niles chuckled softly. The only person he has ever seen put Bishop in his place before was his uncle. Bishop’s face went blank.
“Never mind, Felix, she’s not like Marron at all. She reminds me of my sister—cold.”
Felix didn’t respond, he only stood with his mouth gaping, mesmerized by Harmony’s beauty. Bishop nudged him on the arm, but it didn’t move him, the young dishwasher was awestruck with her.
When Bishop talked that way around Marron, she ignored him because she was used to his crass humor and he knew what boundary he couldn’t cross. Harmony, however, just walked into the café a few minutes ago and already shut Bishop up. Rook noticed his uncle’s reaction and turned to him. He had a smile from ear-to-ear and nodded in approval.
“Young lady, you’re hired!” Niles erupted.
Harmony turned to Niles, her cheeks were flustered and a large smile grew on her face. “Really, Mister Lockhart?”
“Yes! And please, call me Niles—anyone that can shut him up is worth having around here. I assume you have experience?”
“Thank you so much! And yes, I have the experience, I used to waitress part-time during high school, now I’m attending college and, as you know, it won’t pay for itself!”
“That’s good to hear and you’re welcome. Felix, show her around while I finish my phone call.”
Harmony turned to Bishop once more. “I hope I wasn’t rude, I mean, what you were saying was rude and I don’t want any hard feelings because of what I said—”
Bishop threw his hands up. “It’s all good, congratulations. You’re doing the world a great service—helping the blind and all.”
“Ah, right this way!” said Felix, scurrying to her side and leading her into the kitchen.
Rook nodded and smiled as she passed him. He joined Bishop in the booth once more, watching Bishop devour more brownies. Rolling his fingers on the wooden table, his thoughts wandered, occasionally glancing at Bishop as he ate.
“Be safe, Neva,” said Niles before hanging the phone up.
“How’s cousin Neva?” Rook asked.
“She’s good; she has a big exam coming up,” said Niles. “I’m going to go check on Felix, need to make sure he doesn’t scare the young lady out of here,” he continued before making his way to into the kitchen.
Rook watched Bishop finish the final brownie on the plate and licked the tips of his fingers. He cringed before looking awa
y to find a man now standing inside the café. Rook stood from his seat, catching Bishop off guard before walking toward the man.
The man looked no younger than fifty. His skin was tan with wizened features and creases lining the sides of his eyes. Thin gray hair fell behind his neck underneath his black bowler hat, matching his thick gray mustache. He wore a black coat, slacks, and shoes, standing stoically with a black bag under his arm.
“I’m sorry sir, we didn’t hear you come in,” Rook greeted. “My uncle really needs to fix that bell, sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. How can I help you, sir?”
After a moment the man’s gaze fell to Rook. His cloudy gray eyes analyzed him as if he was taking mental notes of his features. The man tapped his fist on his chest and cleared his throat.
“My deepest apologies, young man. I was just admiring the aesthetics of this establishment. It’s my first time coming inside.”
Rook raised an eyebrow. “No problem, sir, is there anything I can get you? Coffee or tea?” Rook offered.
“No, that won’t be necessary, thank you,” he said. “My name is Edgar Killshaw and I believe this is where I can find a—”
The man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled a card from inside. Rook didn’t know what he was reaching for and took a step back. He raised it and tightened his eyes before reading. “Bishop and Rook?”
“Oh, I’m—” Bishop rose from his seat and scurried to the man and shook his hand, interrupting Rook. “Hello Mister Killshaw, I’m Bishop—he’s Rook—we are the ones you are looking for! Welcome!”
Edgar admired them once more. “Hm, I expected you to be—older. Never mind, I saw your card while I was in the city and wanted to inquire about your services?”
“Yes, right this way,” Bishop answered, leading him to an empty booth.
Rook joined them, surprised that Bishop’s street promotion of their team worked. Until that point, any jobs they did before, involved a criminal element that Bishop failed to mention and would end up being more trouble than they were worth.
Magecraft Page 2
